


Top Shelf's Sweet On You

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:24:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: You're not allowed to play favorites in the Statesmen, but it doesn't stop people from being sweet on you.





	Top Shelf's Sweet On You

**Author's Note:**

> **[DO NOT REPOST/REUSE MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION.]**

"As part of your rehabilitation from Poppy's drug, Tequila," Champagne began, "you're going to go see every member of the Top Shelf."

Tequila blinked. "What?" he asked. "I don't need to do that. Statesmen facilities here is top notch."

Champ nodded. "You ain't wrong, but that's not why you're going. The Shelf unanimously voted on it, Agent Whiskey and I included."

"What for? I'm recovering just fine. Another week or two before everything's out of my system."

"Because you sure as hell got everyone worried with the Kingsman business. Everyone wants a chance to see that you're doing well themselves."

Tequila frowned. "That doesn't make sense. They should be seeing Whiskey to congratulate her promotion."

"They will in due time. We can't have everyone leaving their respective branches to go to New York. The world would end without them in their places. But the request still stand. You'll be heading out by Tuesday, first to Miami, then Austin, Los Angeles, Seattle, Chicago, and lastly New York. After that, you can come home."

Tequila nodded, obedient when it counted. "I still don't get why, Champ."

And Champ had a small smile on his face, like he was looking at a son. He might as well be because he felt the same about the youngest member of the Top Shelf as the others. There just had to be some affections from the younger man's awkwardness with the rules of social etiquettes. Champ was working on that, slow as it was, but he enjoyed putting effort into it. 

"Haven't ya notice, Tequila?" the older man asked, amused. "Top Shelf's sweet on ya."

 

**S**

 

_Florida, U.S.A._

Agent Rum was fussing over him, and Tequila had to deal with it. The woman was not to slighted or offended. She dealt with too many mobsters and human traffickers to be tried with. Her petite stature didn't deter her from taking his face in her maincured hands, never too prideful to tippy toe to his height rather than have him crouch down for her. 

"What a handsome boy, _pallito,_ " she said, smiling brightly. Her brown hair swayed along with her movements as she angled Tequila's face in different ways. "Champ isn't holding back on medical treatment, is he?"

"No, ma'am," he replied. "He treats me just fine."

She looked as if she didn't completely believe it, always looking for reasons to be annoyed with Champ. "Mhmm. Want to interrupt a shipment with me? Afterwards, we'll go to Disney. You need to relax, of course."

He wasn't suppose to be on active duty for another week. "Yes, ma'am."

 

**S**

 

_Texas, U.S.A._

"Willa, Jackson, if y'all don't sit down and eat your supper, you'll go to bed without," Agent Cognac warned. Well, his name was William Marshal when he was at home with his family. 

He had  _politely invited_ Tequila over for dinner once he got off the plane. 

"Honey, let 'em be," Phillip said, shaking his head. "Anyway, Tequila,"—Phillip knew the nature of his husband's work thus understood the virtues of keeping some things disclosed—"how are you recoverin'? William told me that you were one of them folks turnin' blue. You ain't doin' those kind of recreational thangs for now, are you?"

"No, sir," Tequila answered around a mouthful of brisket. He was enjoying it very much. "Champagne wouldn't be happy after that incident. Sticking to booze full time now."

Phillip hummed, pleased. As a doctor from Texas, this was good news. 

That was when Willa and Jackson decided to listen to their father, scraping the chairs against the tile flooring. "Pops, is Tequila comin' with us to the fair?” the oldest asked, smiling. 

"Sure thang, sweetheart," Cognac answered, leaving no room for debate from Tequila. It wasn't like the younger man was going to. The father of two was stubborn in getting what he wanted, really, so trying would mean an half an hour conversation only to end where they started. "We'll win him a big teddy bear and eat some cotton candy, won't we?"

Phillip nodded along in agreement. 

 

**S**

 

_California, U.S.A._

Beaches were nice, especially in hotter weather. It was warm compared to Kentucky this time of year, despite Agent Vodka complaining about it being too hot. It wasn't.

"And that's how you can tell who's from Cali or not," Vodka said. "Those who aren't praise the heat like it's fucking amazing, and those who are hate it. You know how to surf, Tequila?" 

"A little," he answered, laying on the sand in some beach in Malibu. It was small but lovely, empty in the brief hours before sunrise but the sun up enough to light up the water. The crashing of the waves were quiet as the rocks tumbled under the movements. "I like just fishing more."

"Mhmm. We'll go to Catalina tomorrow."

"To lay down on?"

"Yup. Nothing like going to the beach and not getting into the water."

 

**S**

 

_Washington, U.S.A._

Tequila didn't like bustling, urban city life much. There was too many people, and everything was loud compared to the quiet tourist spot of Statement brewery. And he preferred bars to this quaint café, the sun to the shadowy sky. He felt out of place. He wanted a beer and a bar fight.

"Stop being so shy," Agent Wine chided without any heat. "People will think you're keyed."

"I'm not. But I don't want to drink this shit. It tastes like an donkey's ass." 

"It's called black coffee, Tequila. I told you this. And you should be wearing a coat. It rains here often. Oh, Charlie, you're here."

Charlie, from the white attire, was the café baker. She came over to Wine as soon as he called her name. "Good morning, Winnie," she said. "Who's you're friend?"

"A good associate of mine. He's recovering from an injury. Would you make us your Nanaimo bar for us today?"

"Sure. Anything for my favorite customer." 

Wine chuckled. "That's what you tell all your costumers."

Charlie winked. "But no one tips me as much as you do. I'll be back soon."

The baker left, and Wine took a sip of his coffee. He then helped Tequila moderate the sugar and creamer level of his own after the younger man began drinking the drink with a grimace. Coffee just didn't burn as right as a shot did, not tasting like hell in the right way. 

About half an hour later, Charlie came back, carrying a small tray, one sizable bar on a plain white plate. She set it down on the table. "It's on the house," she told them with a smile before heading back to the kitchen. 

Tequila thanked the baker, because it was polite, while Wine smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. The bar was good, albeit sweeter than Tequila was used to, but he didn't complain. It went well with his coffee, now that it wasn't bitter and scalding hot. 

 

**S**

 

_Michigan, U.S.A._

Tequila yawned, both he and Agent Malt getting into the car after a park showing of  _Some Like It Hot._ Who knew watching movies would be so tiring? 

"You tired, Tequila?" Malt asked with a small smile. 

"Mhmm," Tequila responded, yawning again. He liked the movie. "Sorry."

"Don't be," she said, smiling as she started to drive off. Her window was open all the way, so the wind was riding through her yellow hair. "Let's ride a little before we head back. Wendy is quite nice at night."

"Alright." 

Tequila fell asleep soon after, eased in by car's quiet hum. He dreamed of having drinks with Marilyn Monroe. He made her laugh. 

 

**S**

 

_New York, U.S.A._

"Hey, Ginger," Tequila said, happy to see his colleague. Ever since her promotion and move, he hadn't the chance to see her, and not seeing her almost daily was a little odd. 

"It's Whiskey now," she reminded him. 

Tequila gave her a cocky grin. "But you'll always be my Ginger Ale, won't you?"

She huffed, but returned his smile, softer though. "Only because you're still recovering. You look tired."

"It's just jetlag. Been around the country almost the last month." 

"Want to rest up then?" 

"I'm alright. I wanna mess with them new recruits you got. Wanna see what they're like."

Whiskey laughed. "You can only shot at their feet, okay? They can't go through training bleeding out."

Tequila moved with a spring in his step. He hadn't really been active since Miami. "If they get shot, it's their own fucking fault. Statesmen can do without them lazy city slickers."

 

**S**

 

_Kentucky, U.S.A._

"Is that for me, Tequila?" Champ asked, joking. 

The younger shook his head, a large teddy bear in his arms. The head of the Top Shelf personally came to see the private Statesman jet land, Tequila carrying off what he could by himself. The teddy bear covered his entire torso, brown with floppy limps.

"No," he answered, kind of gripping the bear a little defensively. Cognac won the bear for Tequila himself, and Willa and Jackson christened it with kisses. Phillip added a satin blue bow around its neck. There was no way he was giving it to anyone. Over his cold, dead body.

Champ chuckled, putting an arm around Tequila's shoulders. "Welcome home, son," he said as they walked. 

"Thank you, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> (i really like agent tequila. i can only guess why.)
> 
> ((because he reminds me of illya kuryakin isnt it??))
> 
> If you got any ideas for more Statesman agents, I'll gladly use them in my future Statesman works. ^^


End file.
